Extraction Epilogues
by hell-whim
Summary: Short scenes following the events of Extraction. AU, Shenko, Talibrations, Joker/EDI
1. Hannah & Anderson

**Hannah & David**

"Shepard. Shepard. S-H-E-P—"

"Here it is," the nurse says with a tight, irritated smile. "Shepard, Maternity."

"Maternity?" Hannah repeats. "Lieutenant Commander _Jane_ Shepard? Came in on the _Normandy_?"

"She's the only Shepard in the system, ma'am. Maternity's on level six. Do you need directions?"

He points down to the elevators and turns back to his console with a dismissive sniff. Hannah balls her fists on the counter's edge, but David's gentle tug on her shoulder refocuses her frustration to fear. They stand close in the elevator, not talking, and Hannah counts each floor under her breath.

The nurse on level six is much more accommodating.

"Room 4-7-C," she says, with a genuine smile balanced between rosy cheeks. "Right at the end."

They don't need to check the doors—from down the hall they can see Jack, curled on a bench outside, frowning in sleep. The room is dark, curtains drawn, lights dim. David is careful in closing the door.

Jeff is asleep in a chair pulled right up to the bed, arm stretched out to Jane, who curls around their joined hands. Hannah approaches them as quiet as she can, but Jeff twitches himself awake.

"Admiral, Captain," he yawns, and David shakes off his salute.

"At ease, Lieutenant."

"You just get here?"

"I had to pretend I was scared of a court-martial," Hannah whispers, leaning over the bed, surveying her sleeping daughter. Jeff laughs quietly, and then glances to the door as it opens. A nurse enters backwards, pulling along a little cart.

"See, brought you back," she coos. "Just like I promised."

Jeff stands and untangles himself from Jane's hand, grinning. Hannah feels David's arm tighten around her back, and realizes that she's holding her breath. Jeff bends over the cart and gently lifts a tiny bundle.

"I think she wanted to be the one to tell you," he says, smoothing back a corner of the blanket. "Meet baby Shepard-Alenko."

He hands the baby over, and for a moment, they are an awkward jumble of arms and fingers. The baby, unhappy at the continued movement, whimpers and squirms in the swaddling.

"Baby boy," Jeff says. "No name yet."

He turns to the nurse, who is running her omnitool over Jane's sleeping form.

"Grandma," he says, pointing first to Hannah, then to David. "Grandpa."

"Congratulations," the nurse whispers. "I'll get you added to the system as soon as possible, so you can come and go as you like."

Hannah hears herself say something vaguely grateful, but she's absorbed in examining her grandson. The Alenko in him is obvious, those dark eyes staring so steadily, the barest hint of a cleft chin, the serious brow, the smattering of black hair across his head. But there's some Shepard, of course, in movement mostly, the little hand that works itself free and latches onto David's finger.

"Hey, there," he whispers, peering down over her shoulder. They hear the door open and Jeff exiting.

"I'll take Jack down to surgical. Get an update on Kaidan."

"Thanks," Jane rasps, waking, and Hannah looks up at her daughter through tears.

"Surprise, Mom," she says.


	2. Kaidan & Jane

**Kaidan & Jane**

His first thought in waking is of her, and she knows it, fingers gently running over his brow.

"Don't try to talk," she says. "You had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and your airway collapsed. They had to put a tube in your throat. Thanks for that moment of terror, by the way."

He opens his eyes and finds her smile in the darkness. Only one lamp, somewhere behind him, illuminates the angles of her tired eyes. Her hair is long, longer than he's ever seen it, and pulled into a loose braid at her neck. He reaches out unsteadily, catching a few strands by her ear.

"My mom's here. Anderson, too. They're with the baby. Doctors want to run a few more tests. They're concerned about his low birth weight, but he's nursing just fine. They said it's nothing to worry ourselves over."

She fits her small hand around his, turning her face and kissing his palm. Her breath on his skin is feather-light and cooling.

"Garrus is with Tali. They put her in infectious isolation. Xeno-specialist here is in contact with quarian medical services on the Citadel. Mordin's helping. She's going to be sick for awhile, but she should be just fine."

She shifts, resting her head in his palm, and he traces the curve of her cheek with his thumb.

"Joker went back to EDI. _Normandy_'s in retrofits or repairs or something. I wasn't paying that much attention. Jack's been standing guard outside for hours. Should pay her overtime."

She laughs for both of them, nuzzling into his hand.

"Everybody else scattered. Thane's around, I think, but Zaeed's gone. Kasumi disappeared. Grunt's waiting for a message from Urdnot. Samara went straight for a shuttle to asari space. Kirrahe's debriefing the Council. The marines are here, or getting reassignments at HQ. That lieutenant, Vega, he's still here somewhere."

He smiles around the tube—not that she can tell.

"I think that's everybody. Now you. One blink, yes. Two blinks, no."

So he blinks once.

"Okay. You in any pain?"

Two blinks.

"Do you want the doctor?"

Two blinks.

"Still love me?"

One blink, though he teases her with hesitation.

"You're mean," she says, catching his thumb with a light kiss. "You have any questions for me?"

He was always the communications specialist, while she was obsessed with mechanics—Morse code is a little outside her wheelhouse, so he brings his hands together as best he can, left fingers drawn to an unsteady point, coasting across his right palm.

"Write? You want to write it?"

One blink.

She rises and crosses out of his field of vision, tottering to the foot of the bed, where he can hear her rummaging through a series of drawers. She returns just as slowly, easing her body into the chair, pressing a stylus and datapad into his somewhat numb hands.

Every part of him strains to write, dragging the tip of the stylus like a stick through dried mud. It's barely legible to his eyes, but she leans forward, head tilted, and reads.

_He has name yet?_

Two blinks, almost instinctual he thinks, as she shakes her head and says, "Not yet. I was waiting for you."

_Good. Had some ideas._


	3. Vega & Jane

**Vega & Jane**

Jack and the lieutenant—_Vega_, she keeps reminding herself—trade off at around noon. Jack exits the room with a mocking nod, and Vega enters with a stiff salute.

"Ma'am," he says.

"We're going for a walk."

He keeps a few steps behind, watching the halls and her balance, baby in one hand, IV pole in the other.

"Isn't this detail a little cushy for you?"

"No, ma'am."

"You know how to say anything else besides _yes_, _no_, and _ma'am_?"

He laughs, a breathy, comforting sound.

"Yes, ma'am, I do. Just not much of a talker, I guess."

"Look at that. I just tripled your vocabulary."

"Yes, ma'am."

They step out onto the surgical isolation floor together, and she has to pause.

"I could take the little niño, if you're tired."

She takes him up on the offer because, what the hell, she's going to have to start trusting the new people at some point. Vega's been trained, or at least studied some theory: with a little cooing and snuffling, the baby's settled in the crook of his ridiculously beefy arm.

"You work out a lot, don't you?"

"Flattered you noticed," Vega says with a grin. "Hate to put on the gun-show without a few admirers."

With his free hand, he gestures up the ward.

"C'mon, Elvis is waiting."

They make it a few more steps before it hits her.

"Elvis?"

"Yeah," Vega nods, gesturing over his scalp. "You know, because of the hair?"

"Gave your CO a nickname?"

"I give everyone nicknames. Scars, Sparks, Bones, Ice, Squid, Boom, Blue, Flash, Doc."

For a moment, she is speechless, contemplating.

"Blue's Samara?"

"Oh, hell no, she scares me too much to call her anything but _ma'am_."

"So no nickname for me?"

Vega shrugs.

"Gimme time. Gotta get a feel for you first."

He grins, and she can't help smiling back.

"Ma'am."


End file.
